


All I've Lost

by GenimHale



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gay, Love, M/M, Panic Attack, Panic Attacks, Steter - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-17
Updated: 2013-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-23 20:34:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/930835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GenimHale/pseuds/GenimHale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Peter are left alone when the pack go out to defeat something and Stiles receives some bad news and needs comfort...</p><p>OR</p><p>The one where Stiles has a panic attack and only Peter is there to help him</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. All I've Lost

**Author's Note:**

> So I've put this in two parts cos the last 500 words are like a future bit but please enjoy. I know Peter isn't his usual sassy self but Stiles isn't himself either and that has changed how Peter acts too.

‘If I can’t come –‘ Stiles began  
‘You can’t come,’ Derek inputted and gained a glare from Stiles.  
‘Then you need to text me how you’re doing, frequently,’ Stiles finished. Derek sighed but Scott nodded. It was no secret, the worry that Stiles held for his pack, they were his only remaining family. 

He worried for Scott - his brother. It had been that way ever since they’d met and that wasn’t changing anytime soon. Scott was the one who stood, arms open, for Stiles to collapse against when he was told the news. And then again at his father’s funeral, Stiles’ hand clutching at Scott’s as the tears fell from his eyes as everyone paid their respects. He worried for Isaac – in the past year since he’d also taken up residence in the McCall household, he’d grown close to the werewolf and he was slowly becoming another brother to him. He worried for Allison, because like him, she was just a human running with wolves but she had skills with weapons which gave her the right to actually run with the wolves and not sit in Derek’s loft worrying about them. He worried for Cora, he’d grown close to the girl when the pack realised their logical brains made a good match for stratagising. And he even worried about Derek, the alpha of the pack, who would pretend not to care but in his eyes, concern for Stiles was evident and in his scent, the other wolves could smell how much Derek worried for Stiles, in the way he worried about Cora. The only one he didn’t worry about was Peter, mostly because he seemed like an idiot but was unfortunately who the pack forced to stay with Stiles when they went out fight more supernatural beings. They sometimes tried to pretend it was because he was the oldest but even Stiles could tell it was a lie – after this time, none of them trusted him yet.   
With another promise to text Stiles every hour, the pack left the loft, sliding the heavy door shut behind them and leaving Stiles alone with Peter. Stiles began doing homework at the table. Since his father’s death, he’d made it an aim to improve his grades, he wanted them to be something his father would’ve been proud of. Peter concentrated on his book, turning the pages slowly as he read. Stiles received two texts from Scott. One announcing that they’d found the creature and another saying how they’d almost got it, splitting up to make it easier. Stiles smiled with the knowledge that his and Cora’s plan was working well and put his phone down on the sofa and going back over to the table.   
A few more hours passed and Stiles work sat in a neat pile on the table with Peter’s book next to it, both complete.   
‘He should’ve texted me. It shouldn’t even be taking this long,’ he insisted, staring at the phone in front of him and breathing deeply.  
‘Stiles, they’ll be fine. Maybe he just forgot to text you when they’d done and they’re on their way back here now,’ Peter sighed, rolling his eyes, already a third of the way into a second book. Stiles shook his head, he wishes he could think that but in the back of his mind, he knew something had happened. His phone beeped. His hand shot out quickly, grabbing it and opening the message,  
From: Sourwolf   
We got them. But Scott is hurt. We can’t move him until Deaton gets here.   
Before Stiles could react, his phone beeped again with a new message.  
From: Sourwolf  
It’s bad. 

Peter’s head snapped up as he smelt the panic coming from Stiles. His chest tightened like his grip on the phone. Tears pooled in his eyes and he stared at the words on his phone until they became an illegible blur. It wasn’t until Stiles’ body began violently trembling that Peter reacted. He was off the chair and across the room in seconds, his book thrown to the floor in his haste.  
‘Stiles?’ he waited ‘Stiles!’ he yelled.   
‘No, no, no,’ the smaller boy choked out, rocking back and forth. Peter ripped the phone out of his hands and threw it to the floor. He gripped onto Stiles’ shoulders and shook him. ‘He can’t – he can’t leave me. Not now, not ever,’   
‘Stiles!’ but the boy continued to shake, a light sheen on sweat covering his skin as he gasped for breath, not taking enough in in his short pants. Peter’s hands grabbed the sides of Stiles’ face and jerked his head up, so their eyes connected. He pressed their foreheads together, the tips of their noses brushing as he tried to remain calm in order to calm the boy down.   
‘Stiles, breathe with me,’ he instructed, inhaled through his nose, holding it a few seconds before exhaling. His warm breath caressed Stiles moist lips as he exaggerated his breathing, hoping Stiles would copy. After a few breaths, Stiles drew in a shaky breath and blew out, copying Peter. The pair remained pressed together until Stiles’ breathing returned to normal, the pain in his chest subdued. He stroked his fingers along the boy’s jawbone and brushed a thumb across his lip, allowing one hand to drop to Stiles’ hand and entwine their fingers. He rubbed soothing circles into his palm and looked up to catch his eyes. In that one look, Peter saw he wasn’t okay and he drew him into his chest, pulling him half onto his lap. Stiles’ fists gripped at the fabric on Peter’s chest as he allowed the tears to fall. Sobs wracked his body as he buried his head into Peter’s shoulder. The older man stroked the boy’s hair as he cried for his brother, his pack, his father and just for everything he’d kept bottled up. Stiles’ always hid it, determined to seem strong around the wolves and not letting them in on any weaknesses he had. But now he’d opened the floodgates and he couldn’t stop it. The tears kept falling and Peter kept one arm tightly round him as the other ran through Stiles’ hair soothingly.   
Stiles’ cried until he fell asleep, passed out against Peter. His cheeks were tear stained and Peter’s top sodden but he didn’t care. He look at the broken boy, who used to be so happy – a sarcastic boy, always cracking jokes – who had now just cried himself to sleep. And Peter shook his head, blinking back a lone tear as he considered the ordeal he’d gone through. The boy – man – was only just 18 and he’d lost his whole family and had had more responsibility than any normal adult could handle forced upon him. And Peter considered that. He’d had the last few years of his childhood ripped away by none other than Peter himself when he had bitten Scott when both boys were just 16. This burden fell heavy on his heart, knowing that he had taken any chance of a normal life away from the boy who made his heart flutter just the tiniest bit.   
He pressed two soft kisses to Stiles’ eyelids as the boy curled into him more. His arms cradled the boy, as if he could protect him from the thoughts in his mind and looked down on him as he slept. His phone beeped with another blunt text from Derek.   
From: Derek  
Scott is healing. He will be fine. On way back now.  
He considered waking him, letting him know that Scott was good but he figured Stiles needed the sleep. The heavy purple circles under his eyes made his sleep deprivation evident and Peter couldn’t bring himself to rouse the boy from what was probably his first proper sleep since the accident.   
When the pack returned, all smiles and laughter, Peter hushed them all with a pointed look at Stiles. Each wolves eyes were on him as they picked up on the smell of Stiles’ previous panic mixed with his peace now and the hint of care coming from Peter. And the more advanced werewolves picked up on a scent that Peter hadn’t. Love. Love for the broken boy he had enveloped in his arms.


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set three years after the last part. Stiles is 21 and Peter is 33.

A few years had passed since the first time Peter had held Stiles in his arms. At first Peter hadn’t realised or understood his feeling towards Stiles, he didn’t want to consider the possibility he was in love with his because he was 30 and Stiles was 18. And Peter was an ex-alpha werewolf and Stiles a human, fragile and breakable. But somehow they’d got past that with intervention from the others, who took pity on the two oblivious men.   
‘Stiles,’ Peter smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth when he finally came down the stairs in their apartment. After they’d finally got together, Peter began to help Stiles recover. He had lost his parents and that was hard to deal with and Peter knew he wouldn’t recover overnight because he loved them greatly but he did try to help him. He loved Stiles as much as he could, trying to make up for the love he’d lost. They had been together for only a few months before Peter suggested moving in together. Melissa insisted she didn’t mind the three 19 year old still residing in her house but Peter had a feeling she’d prefer to have them off her hands for a little bit. So they’d bought an apartment together and moved in as soon as they could. The pack begun to trust Peter more as well as they picked up on his feelings towards Stiles and believed he was a changed man since Stiles. Even Lydia managed to forgive him for Stiles’ sake, after Peter apologised sincerely. He even apologised to Scott for biting him, which Scott brushed off with a grin, claiming he wouldn’t want to reverse it with a sappy look into Allison’s eyes as they laughed together.   
‘What are you thinking about?’ Stiles asked him with a small smile, still in his arms  
‘Us,’ Peter responded with an equally happy smile. ‘I love you,’  
‘I love you too,’ Stiles said, his heart beat steady because it was the truth. Just before they left to celebrate Stiles’ 21st, Peter slipped a deep blue velvet box into his pocket.

And over the next few years they did get married and later, had a son, using Cora as a surrogate. As they sat around Cora’s bedside at the hospital, Stiles cradling their child and Peter with an arm protectively around Stiles’ shoulders.   
‘What is he called?’ Cora asked them. They connected eyes with a shared smile.  
‘John,’ Stiles said.  
‘Jonathan Daniel Hale,’ Peter added, with a grin as he revelled in the fact that Stiles had taken Hale as his last name even though Peter had suggested combining them.   
‘John, like, your dad?’ she asked Stiles and he nodded. Peter pressed his lips to Stiles temple as a single tear fell but from pure happiness rather than sorrow like they had before.  
As he held his son he could only hope that his dad was happy for him, that he was proud of his son and that he’d have loved to meet his only grandson and his son-in-law. That he’d have been happy with Stiles’ happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's my first really angsty sad fic and I'm sad I killed Sheriff Stilinski for this fic. I also went with the fandom name for Sheriff and called him John. I'll admit I cried myself while writing this but I'm not sure how good it is... Leave feedback?


End file.
